


Family Christmas

by JohnAmendAll



Category: Doctor Who (Big Finish Audio)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 05:56:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,123
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5528594
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnAmendAll/pseuds/JohnAmendAll
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zoë's first Christmas after the fall of the Company.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Family Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> Since I haven't listened to 'Second Chances' (and don't have any plans to) it is entirely possible that some elements of this fic are not wholly compatible with Zoë's and/or Jen's situation as at the end of that story. If so, my considered and detailed response is 'LA LA LA I CAN'T HEAR YOU'.

Zoë Heriot, affecting a casual air, rested her hand on the touchscreen. No doubt the computer was monitoring her pulse, blood pressure and other physical signs to determine just how badly she wanted this transaction to go through. Given that this deal was, in theory, advantageous to the computer, she needed to show a proper reluctance. It would be programmed to detect any signs of eagerness on her part, and treat them as suspicious. 

After what seemed an interminable delay, the message APPROVED flashed up. Elsewhere on the board, two ownership icons — a purple, old-fashioned rocketship against 'Triton' and a red top hat against 'Ganymede' — exchanged places. 

Zoë permitted herself a brief smile. "Your move, Ann," she said, nodding to the young girl on the far side of the board. 

Ann made the appropriate gesture on the touch-sensitive board. "Five," she said, watching the image of a green dog dash across the squares. "Mimas." 

"That's mine!" her brother Tom crowed. "With one satellite." He gestured at the board. "One hundred and twenty credits rent." 

Ann stuck out her tongue at him. "That's not fair! I haven't got a hundred and twenty credits." 

"Then you'll have to mortgage something again, won't you?" 

Ann reluctantly paged through her list of properties, then looked up as a thought struck her. "Great-Aunt Zoë?" 

"Yes?" Zoë asked, with artless curiosity. 

"Didn't you offer me three hundred credits for Callisto?" 

"You know, when you get to my age, you sometimes get a little forgetful, but I'm sure I'd remember if I'd offered you such an extravagant price. And now you've mortgaged it, too. Tch, tch, tch." Zoë beamed seraphically at her surrogate great-nephew and great-niece. "I really don't think I could possibly have offered you more than two hundred." 

"Awww..." 

"Well, you don't _have_ to accept my offer." 

Ann writhed on the horns of the dilemma, then nodded. "Two hundred." 

"Here you are," Zoë said. "Two hundred credits for Callisto." She solemnly slid her finger across the gameboard, two orange graphics of banknotes tracking it. "Now, all I need to do is clear the mortgage, and buy... I think six satellites, to start with." As the appropriate glyphs appeared on the board, she gave Tom a cheerful smile. "Your turn, young Tom." 

Tom made the dice-rolling gesture. The slight rise in Zoë's eyebrows might have escaped him, but as the count of moves ticked down to zero, he realised exactly where his flatiron was going to land, and let out a groan. 

"Two hundred credits, please," Zoë said, as the flatiron glided to a halt on the 'Europa' square. 

"Have you ever been to any of those places?" Ann asked. 

"Some of them. I did a few months at an outstation on Callisto when I was forty-three." 

"What was it like? I've seen the pictures." 

Zoë smiled. "It was just like seeing the pictures. We spent all our time in a cramped tin box looking after scientific instruments. I only got one spacewalk in all the time I was there." She tapped the board. "And I'm still waiting for my two hundred credits, Tom." 

The door slid open, revealing the children's mother, wearing an apron over her festive jumpsuit. 

"Jen!" Zoë made to get up. "Is there anything I can do to help?" 

"No, everything's under control. We're on course for turkey and the trimmings in half an hour. Do you think you'll have finished your game by then?" 

"More like in five minutes," Tom said. "Great-Aunt Zoë just diddled Ann out of Callisto. That means she's got the orange set and she's already put satellites all over it. We haven't got a hope now." 

"And she's still in jail!" Ann added. "It shouldn't be allowed." 

Jen smiled. "That takes me back. You have to keep a sharp eye on Great-Aunt Zoë, children. She's very sneaky when she has a mind to be. Especially if you put her in jail." 

⁂

Well within the promised five minutes, the Monopoly game had come to its inevitable conclusion. Jen and Zoë were sitting on the sofa, chatting quietly while Jen kept half an eye on her children as they tried to assemble their new model dropship. 

"You look a lot better," Jen said. "Different medication?" 

Zoë nodded. "They took me off the pseudospectrox and tried ascotetramycin instead. Seems to work just as well and I don't get those forgetful episodes any more. And my new elbow's settling in nicely. So I should be able to do some more babysitting turns, if you need me to." 

"That'd be a great help. The Legislature keep asking me if I can do more days. This world's short of lawyers — and say what you like about us, we do have our uses." 

"I've got plenty of reasons to know that," Zoë said. "If you don't mind talking shop, did you have time to find out what that odd message was about the President?" 

Jen nodded. "You remember that 'accident' at Earthdome we heard about? Apparently it wasn't an accident: it was an attempted coup by Senator Masters." 

"Head of the vegetable quality standards committee," Zoë said. 

"That's the one. Anyway, it must have been quite serious, because they had to appoint an Emergency President for the day. And before he stood down, he had all the charges against you quashed. You aren't a wanted saboteur any more." 

"I wonder why." Zoë shook her head. "Maybe he had a grievance against the Company, too." 

"There are plenty of people who did." Jen glanced at her children, as if reassuring herself they were still there. "But it does mean you could go back to Earth if you wanted." 

Zoë shrugged. "Maybe for a visit. It might be nice to see some of my old friends." 

"I remember you telling me you didn't have any." 

"Well, I wouldn't have let the Company know about them, would I? Not unless I wanted them to join me on Death Row." 

"We don't have to worry about that, now. But when I said you could go back... I meant you don't have to hide out with us on a barely-civilised colony world any more. You could pick up your old life where it left off." 

"Such as it was." Zoë patted Jen's hand. "Don't be silly, Jen. You and your children are the nearest thing I've had to family in a very long time. I'm not in any hurry to give that up. Always provided you're willing to put up with a daft old biddy like me." 

Jen laughed. "It's not a question of 'putting up'. And I wouldn't dare to call you 'daft.'" She winced, as if at a chilly touch. "I've seen what happened to people who thought you were."


End file.
